


i only smile in the dark

by tenuis



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenuis/pseuds/tenuis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the reasons don't matter; at least not until you're understood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i only smile in the dark

_i'm only happy when it rains_

 

You're fighting, again. But you're only fighting because of the way his shoulders roll slowly under his skin, his face turns red and his lips go tight. 

The kid's fifteen, and you're twenty. But you're not fooled, and you know he's aware of the uselessness of it all, the fighting. He's arrogant, but he doesn't understand.

The kid slaps your face, hard, with the back of his hand. You stare at his big chest in silent awe. 

The kid crawls onto your lap, but he kisses your face sorry, _nuh-uh_. He slides his hands hard over your chest, though, taking your shirt up with them.

You like his hands, his arrogance. He'll get better at it, he's only fifteen. 

 

 

_i'm only happy when it's complicated_

 

You're sad. He's not a kid anymore, and he's softer, less arrogant.

You know why you're sad, though. He's not a kid, since he's twenty-one; he's not a kid, but it's not about that.

So you talk about Britney. _slut_ , and _just like you, infant_.

The slap is hard and seems like it'll wring your neck, but it hurts even less, when it comes. You're not surprised, and you want more from where that came from.

"Fuck that bitch", he hisses. "Fuck you", he whispers, tearing your pants open and spreading your legs apart with his elbows, roughly.

You smile. _That's good, baby, keep it up_.

 

 

_and though i know you can't appreciate it_

 

"Why do you do this?" he shouts, and he's not even looking at you. His back is moving heavily with the deep breaths he's taking. His long, long, broad back. He's so beautiful like this, he has no idea.

He turns to look at you. Walks over where you are, quickly, and takes your face in his palms, so delicate it actually _hurts_ , more than the slapping. He's almost crying, but he _can't_. Not him. You scramble your fingers over his face, desperately trying to change that.

You start to cry instead, big fat tears. But you're smiling, so you can make him mad at you.

"Wake. the fuck. up." His face is twisted in anger, and he presses the heels of his hands hard to your cheeks. You gasp in pleasure.

 

 

_pour your misery down on me_

 

Everything went wrong, one of these days. His mic stopped mid-rehearsal, Joey fucked up his leg, and wardrobe is pitching a fit about laundry, even though the tour's not even started yet.

He comes into your room, and he's pissed off. He watches you from under his lashes, and he seems to take deeper breaths, his face going blank with dissipating fury.

When you both lay down, you're not satisfied. _Please, please_ , you beg, until he's angry. He whispers _no, no, no_ over and over, but eventually he lets you go. He grabs both your wrists with one hand and crunch them to the headboard of the bed.

He's shaking his head in disapproval. You refuse to notice, and take pleasure in the sharpness of his anger, in his grunts and growls.

You don't know who's in charge anymore, but you don't like to think it's you.

 

 

_you'll get the message by the time i'm through_

 

"I love you." And you shake your head and look away, because he can't say it like this, so _soft_.

"God, don't you ever get tired of this?" He asks, his face a disbelieving scowl.

"No. I think--" he's looking at you intently. You raise your eyes in fake fragility. "I think that's the way I--" pause.

You can't say it either, not in any way.

"Not like this. I'm not like this." He puts fingers on your chin. "But I understand it." He kisses you, a little harder than you expected, and it's good.

He now knows how good.

But a little part of you, deep inside, misses the illusion that it used to be good to him, too.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the Garbage song. because it wasn't obvious.
> 
> and because i think that JC is probably the one who suffers the most, and has always been. but everything is _intentional_ , people.


End file.
